Aftermath of Iraq

I saw him lash in his sleep:
his face contorted—
the scream left his lips,
his body jolted,
his pulse raced.

His desolate eyes cast about
I reached for my husband whispering “are you there?”

I saw him lay there still:
legs unwilling—
joints stone stiff,
neuropathy setting in.


His mind searches my face.

His ears ring with my voice.

His vertigo keeps him from me.


I watched him dress in his class A’s.

A brother’s death:
pills,
pain,
a loaded gun.

He said to me as I stood by
“war never ends.”